We Stand Together
by Jadeah
Summary: A bunch of short stories about the recruits, because even they need some love too. T for swears, violence, bad humor, and such.
1. Welcome to the Order

"Welcome to the Assassin Order," the senior member, Zaccaria, said to two of the newest members, Marco and Zita. "Now we have a lot to cover. Any sort of questions?"

Marco raised his hand.

"_Si_?"

"Do we all get to wear black?" He asked excitedly. "Be complete siloettes at night? Because that would be cool!"

Zaccaria pinched the bridge of his nose, "No. Look around, do you see anyone else wearing black?"

Marco and Zita looked every which way around the hideout. There was one wearing black, but everyone else either had some form of red, green, or something on. But the thing was they could easily find only two of each color everyone was wearing.

"Yes, one," Zita answered.

"That's because Fabiola is my teammate." He explained. "You see, how the recruits are trained here is two new members are paired up in teams and must train and go on missions together. Of course, there is the occassion where you work with other teams, but you are more often than not with your teammate. Each team gets their own color, mine in this case is ebony. There are also the crimson, emerald, azure, and wine teams."

"So what color do we get?" Marco asked without really waiting for permission to speak, the senior member could already tell this one would be a real piece of work. "And whose our teammates?"

"Since we have no more housing left for no more than two, you both are our last team, and your color is white." Zaccaria told them. "Besides, the master tends to only recruit two at a time, don't ask me why because I'm not even sure. Any other questions?"

"Yeah, when do we start killing guards," Marco asked.

Facepalm. Zaccaria sighed heavily. "There's more to it than killing the have missions, and you need to protect innocents from danger. Also, you need to be able to protect your teammate, because losing them means you must wait, completely set aside, until a new recruit has been brought up to your status and can work with you. Watch them, know them and their signs so you can work with them to the best of your abilities."

"I have a question," Zita asked.

"Yes," he said, a little relieved that it wasn't Marco this time.

"Actually, two. Did any of the recruits die before, and who is in each of the teams?"

"Yes, one recruit did die before, and the teammate blamed only themself for it, and still does," Zaccaria answered. "As for teams, you can meet them yourselves instead of have me give you a list of names. As I and my teammate had to meet all of you new recruits first hand."

Zita nodded and looked down. Marco though seemed excited.

"When do we get our outfits?"

"Follow me and I'll give you both one." He then walked to a door and went up the stairs to a storage room with a bench in the middle. From one shelf, he pulled out a white recruit's uniform for Marco, and another for Zita. "You're expected to maintain your gear and your clothes."

"But what if our clothes gets torn up while we're fighting?" Zita asked, looking at Zaccaria's seemingly untorn clothes.

He cracked a grin when he realized she thought his were perfectly fine, and pulled off his platebody to reveil all the stitched up rips and tears underneath. "Usually we try to have it patched up, but if they get bad enough, then we just give you a replacement. I know some recruits who go through uniforms like fire with wood. But try not to get into the habit of requesting replacements, it's a bother to scape one up sometimes." He got the platebody back on as he added, "If you're really a good fighter, then you can make a uniform last until your promotion to a real Assassino."

"Oh and you did?" Marco said smuggly.

"As a matter of fact, little novice, I did," Zaccaria responded. "I hadn't needed to ask for one replacement, but then again, it could still happen." He then left the room to let the two novices get dressed.


	2. Won't go without you

"If I die, then you come down with me!"

Fabiola tightened her grip on her sword as she said those words and glared harshly at the guard in front of her. Her vision was swaying, and pain was pelting her in intense waves, but she didn't fall. Falling would be sure death.

Ezio had called them to help him clear out some guards stationed near a Borgia tower, but now it seemed every single one in the district had flocked over to join their comrades. Even after he called two more teams of recruits, it was still a difficult fight.

And he had heard her, she knew when he shouted and bashed down a hammer into a guard's helmet. "Leave her alone!" Then he looked up at her, as if trying to will her to run and spare her own life. But she wouldn't. And because she wouldn't, he was forced to stick close and defend her.

She took a heavy blow to her leg then, and stumbled forward, barely managing to catch herself and balance on her good one. "Maestro... please, tell Zaccaria that I'm sorry." And she was prepared to take the spearman's next blow, tears starting to escape. But a clash of steel made her open her eyes and watch as Ezio held onto the end of the spear, the guard shocked, and rip it out of his hands before plunging it's tip deep into his neck.

Shivering with cold relief, she fell to her knees and held her wounds with her hands. Heavy pants barely escaped as she saw the carnage all around. The aftermath of the battle. Her own teammate, Zaccaria rushed over and helped her back to her feet.

"Come," he told her softly, "we'll get these wounds seen to." And then he led her to the closest horse and assisted her in getting on before taking the reins and walking beside it to walk all the way back to Isola Tiberina.

It was soon after they were moving that she blacked out through the rest, and started to come back to in Zaccaria's arms as he carried her down the stairs of the hideout. She stared half consciously at his face. He had black hair, and a light goutee (you know, it's kinda like a beard but not connected to your hairline. Also the stash and goutee weren't connected), just above his eyebrow was a scar. Fabiola knew he was strong, more so since he was able to hold her bridal style with ease despite the fact that she was in metal armor.

She was laid down on the doctor's table and felt her teammate's hands pull out from under her back. Distantly, she heard him shout, "Get a _doctore_! _Affrettatevi_!" He held onto her hand, "Fabiola, stay with me, you're going to be alright!"

Too weak when a few coughs made her body convulse, she jolted like a doll being shaken about. Everything was so cold. The only warmth she could find was in Zaccaria's hand. She couldn't speak; her throat was closing up on her.

"Come on, talk to me, please," he pleaded, holding on a little tighter. "Let me know you're still here!"

Eyes half open, she looked to him with diolated pupils consuming most of her amber-flecked gray irises. Her hand returned his squeezing grip. "I-I..." She couldn't say any thing more, her voice just seemed to fail and she instead shuttered. The pain was starting to dull now, and her body was becoming warm with numb. Eyes darkening out.

"Let me see to this," another voice said.

She was only aware now of Zaccaria's hand around hers, the only thing keeping her tethered there. Maybe someone did get a doctor, she wasn't sure. And soon she let her failing eyes slip shut.

* * *

Fabiola woke up to see Zaccaria sitting at her bedside, his hand still holding hers. He was looking down at the floor with a blank stare, disconnected. Lightly, she gave his hand a squeeze, which was enough to snap his attention back to his surroundings.

He looked down at her and she gave him a weak smile. Sighing with relief, he smiled back and brushed some of her black hair from her face with a gentle thumb. "I thought you were done for."

She curtly nodded and let her head fall to the side as she closed her eyes again. "I wouldn't go without you..."

**If you think about the timing of this, then this is more like a flashback story. Because this happened just before Marco and Zita were recruited.  
Did anyone have that moment while playing where one of your recruits says something like that and then you defend them like no tomorrow so they don't die and you don't have to recruit another one? Because this happened to me and I thought I could make a short story out of this for you guys.**


	3. An Issue of the Heart

Tullio sighed behind his face mask and stared down at the street from the rooftop. He was supposed to be running some errands, but he found himself stuck there watching someone.

When Bettina, his hyper active teammate, caught up, she nearly ran right past him. But she stopped and turned back towards him. "Hey, what are you looking at?" She then got really close and practically hung on his shoulder trying to see where he was looking.

He sighed and shook his head, "It's nothing. Just... some patrolling guards." He lied. And he could tell by how she stared back that she knew he was.

"Really, what's wrong?" She questioned, crossing her arms.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Tullio looked one way then back down at the streets. "Well... you see... I just... eh..." In the back of his mind, he wondered if being a _Assistente_ also meant you had NO confidence in speaking to other Assassins. Because so far, it seemed the older recruits were cold as ice itself, and their mentor, Ezio Auditore, was an iceburg. As for himself and his teammate, the Wine Team, and this new White Team, they were still trying to find some sort of image they would go by.

You see, it started with the second (Crimson) team's arrival. The Ebony Team, mere _Mercenarios_, seemed like the best of the best. On top of that, they got this reputation for being the most professional and wisest of the recruit teams. And Crimson Team, they were known as thugs in a way. Not all bad though, but they were the kind of people to glare and call you out if you looked at them funny. Since they came along, new recruits were given a sort of image by the higher ranked recruits. Not that Ezio or Machiavelli didn't know, they figured it out a bit ago, they just let them do what they could to accept each other. Though there was some sort of hazing too, so he heard.

"Come on, what aren't you telling me," Bettina questioned, tapping her foot.

Tullio groaned and rested a knuckle against his forehead. He really, REALLY didn't want to say this to his teammate at all. But he knew well enough now that it would become a federal case otherwise. Looking back down at the streets, his eyes landed on the woman he had been watching. A tall, fragile looking thing with brown hair twisted back in a bun and walking about in a simple red dress.

His teammate's smile practically reached ear to ear. "You like someone! _Dios mio_! This is great! What's her name? Tell me! Tell me! Tell me, pleeeeease!" She gripped his sleeve excitedly and was jumping on her toes.

"I... eh... she..." Tullio looked down and took a heavy breath. "It's nothing... honest..."

Bettina practically danced a circle around him. "Aw, I never thought you were shy. I'll give you advice, girls LOVE shy guys. They just look so sensitive and sweet. Go and talk to her, I'm going to get this errand done."

Although it takes a lot to convince her to do an assignment on her own, he knew, he was still reluctant to let a stupid and hopeless crush get in the way of his work. "No. It's fine. I... don't really like her anyways."

She rolled her eyes and led the way to their small assignment. All while he was kicking himself for not taking the chance to talk to that woman. But he'd always remember her face.

* * *

While Tullio was sharpening his sword near the fireplace that evening, he was tapped on the shoulder. He looked up to find himself staring up at Vittorio (a member of the Crimson Team). The higher ranked assassin looked down politely at him before asking, "Mind if I sit with you?"

Now despite him and his teammate being pegged with a thug reputation, they didn't always act it. In fact, the Azure team fit the image better than they did.

Shaking his head, Tullio returned to his sword. The _Veterano_ took it as an invitation to sit down. "So, what is this whole crush thing Bettina is making a big deal over?"

This made Tullio freeze. _She wouldn't... _With a faked yawn, he attempted to switch the topic, "It's getting late," he stood up stretching and grabbed his sword, "I think I should go get some sleep."

Of course, Vittorio didn't buy it and stopped him. "Nice try. Just talk to me, what's going on here?"

Embarrassed, and preparing to tell Bettina off for getting nothing to become so public, Tullio stared down at the floor. "Nothing... Bettina just wanted to make a show."

"You know that's not true," the older disagreed, "what is it really?"

With the realization that he wouldn't be able to get him off his back, he expalned how he liked a girl he saw, but couldn't even imagine ever talking to her.

"I had that problem once," Vittorio stated, patting Tullio's shoulder, "all you need to do is try and be a little confident and talk to her. It's not so difficult."

"But it is," Tullio disagreed, "I'm not like you or Bettina. I like her, but that also means I don't want to take the chance that she doesn't like me. I can't do it. And I don't want her to know me as the shy one."

Vittorio took this into account and nodded. "Well, if you feel that way, I guess I can't really help you out then. Who knows, maybe you'll find your own way of letting her know."

* * *

Two days later...

Gulettia woke up to find pidgeon perched on her windowsill, and a small note tied around it's ankle. Rubbing her eye, she stood up and carefully untied the knot before rolling open the message.

There in a lightly curved handwritting said,

_"Dear whoever you might be,  
I'm still waiting patiently.  
I haven't met you,  
But I really want to.  
I will slowly count down the days  
Until I finally know your name.  
Maybe one day we will meet,  
And then I'll feel complete.  
With amore,  
You're secret admirer"_

She smiled lightly as she read the message and looked out the window to see who might have sent it to her. "Maybe one day we can meet, _amore mio_."


	4. Highway to Hell

Total madness.

All Vittorio couldn hear is Marco and Zita's shrill screeching as he tried to keep the horses on the road. _Stupid carrage! Stupid road! Stupid horses! Stupid mission! STUPID NOVICES!_ He screamed in his head. They had guards on their asses and they needed to get this weapon shipment away from the Borgia hands. It's an important mission, but of course, Mentore HAD to leave him and his completely qualified teammate with two little recruits on their first mission who couldn't do anything better but wet themselves.

"SHUT UP!" He yelled, not daring to take his eyes off the road. Of course, Vittorio didn't see Candida clutching the front of the carrage in her nervousness. Though all she could think was how she should have taken the wheel, _Vittorio's too reckless and proud!_

Marco was tightly wedged between a couple boxes in a feedle position practically losing his voice because of his screaming like a little girl. Zita was trying, and failing, at shooting the guards off their horses with a crossbow, which Candida just slapped in her arms and told her to shoot. Waste of bolts.

"WE'RE GONNA DIE! WE'RE GONNA DIE! WE'RE GOING TO FUCKING DIE!" Marco yelled.

Candida, finally losing her calm, smacked the snivelling recruit upside the head and climbed in back. "WHAT ARE YOU? A MAN OR A CHILD?" She then reclaimed her crossbow from Zita and started to snipe the guards off their horses, or shooting horse down, left and right. But it wasn't after long that she ran out of bolts, most wasted because of Zita's use. She strapped it to her back and tried to think of how else they could get rid of the now gaining guards.

"WHERE DO THEY KEEP COMING FROM?" Zita shouted, eyes wide and hands gripping the edge of the carrage.

"HOW THE HELL SHOULD I KNOW," Vittorio snapped, "JUST TRY AND SHAKE THEM!"

"OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD!"

One of the guards on horseback was close, like right next to the carrage and about to climb on close. Vittorio only looked back for two seconds before barking, "MARCO, QUIT YOUR CRYING AND DO SOMETHING!"

"DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! DAMN!" Then he kicked his leg out, knocking a crate off the carrage. Although Candida was about to yell at him for it, she was silenced when she saw that the weapons inside were completely destoryed on impact. And Marco, struggling for balance on the wobbling cart, stood and snatched the reins of the guard's horse, and with a harsh tug back, the horse stopped before falling forward nearly dragged. The guard flew off and somersulted over the dirt, nearly run over by the back wheel.

Vittorio would ahve smiled if it weren't for the fact there was still a bunch of others. And in front, a wooden bridge. "WE'RE GOING TO HAVE TO JUMP!"

Candida snapped her head forward to look at the back of his hooded head. "ARE YOU CRAZY?"

"TRUST ME!" He said. "EVERYONE IN FRONT, NOW!"

The white team and Candida did as told and got to the front of the carrage, where Vittorio held the latch which kept the horses attached to the carrage. "WAIT FOR IT!" The very moment the horses came thundering onto the bridge, the wooden beams started to break from underneath, he released the latch and shouted, "JUMP!"

All four lundged forward and rolled on the wooden bridge as it broke from under the heavy carrage. The horses sped right to the otherside, taking a few more boards with them. Vittorio got to his feet and grabbed Candida by the arm to haul her up, and grabbed Marco by the hood just after.

"Come on! OFF THE BRIDGE! MOVE!" He ordered as the rest was starting to cave. His heart didn't stop pounding, even after he was safely on solid ground. Only after he was sure they all made it across safely that he started to calm himself down.

Zita stared down the cliffside to see the shattered remains of the carrage and it's cargo. "So much for the weapons."

"We don't need the muskets anyways," Marco rasped, his voice practically gone now.

Vittorio, fell backwards on the grass and promptly fainted.

When they returned to the hideout a day later, Marco was telling the story about how he and Zita saved everyone, and Zita truthfully admitted that she couldn't shoot anything and that Candida did so much better. But Ezio found it most believable when Candida told the closer to true story about how Marco screamed his vocalcords out, Zita wasted her crossbow bolts, and Vittorio pretty much saved their asses. Well, whereever the hell she got the swordfighting on the carrage was beyond him.

**I was feeling stupid. Hurpderp...**


End file.
